


You

by ittakesabitmore (grumpybell)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpybell/pseuds/ittakesabitmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And then there's Rachel Berry. She's shiny and flawless and absolute perfection and pretty much the opposite of everything in his life. But the thing is, she's shiny and flawless and absolute perfection, so he knows she's not for him, will never be for him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You

 

**“And you're a liar, at least all of your friends are.”**

When she's seven years old, Finn Hudson breaks her heart for the first time. Puck knows this because he's Finn's best friend and he saw the whole thing happen.

She makes Finn a Valentine. It's still a week to Valentine's Day, but Rachel Berry has always been an overachiever, an early bloomer. It's a hideous thing, Puck thinks, huge and pink and frilly and glitter falls out when Finn opens it. It smells like perfume. She'd slipped it into his locker before school. Puck knows, the moment Finn sees it, exactly who it's from and that this is not going to end well.

Finn stares at the thing like it's going to bite him, finally getting the nerve to pick it up and look inside. Puck never sees what it says, but Finn goes bright red and makes a weird face.

“Ooohhh! Look! Finn's got a Valentine!” It's Santana, smirking, devious. Puck hates her. She's too much like him.

“I bet it's from Rachel,” Quinn pipes up. Quinn is different from Santana, but in a lot of ways worse. She's all angelic smiles and soft words and you think how nice she is until to actually listen to what she's saying.

“Is it from the freak?” Quinn turns to look at Rachel who's across the hall, frozen and wide-eyed. She looks like she's going to cry.

“You're going to get cooties, Finn!” Santana says loudly and Puck glares at her, because she's cruel for no reason and he knows people like that all too well. He lives with one. Finn drops the Valentine, blushing harder. Rachel is crying now and she turns on her heel and hurries away.

Quinn and Santana burst out laughing and skip off down the hallway arm in arm. Finn trails after them, looking mortified, leaving the Valentine on the floor. It lies there, abandoned and it makes Puck so angry he can't even express it. He picks it up and stuffs it in his backpack. He decides then and there to fix it.

Noah Puckerman doesn't sign the Valentine he slips into Rachel's locker a week later. He thought about signing it from Finn. That's what she wanted, after all, but he's afraid she'll say something to Finn and he'll humiliate her all over again. So he leaves it blank. She can think what she wants.

He'd cut the crude shape out of one of his dad's red shirts with a pocket knife he'd stolen a year back and glued it to the same heart shape he'd cut out of an empty cereal box. He didn't have money for a real Valentine or art supplies. His dad had hit him until he'd seen stars for what he did with the shirt, but it didn't matter because he would have found another reason to hit him anyway. His dad always hit him when he was drunk. And his dad was usually drunk.

Puck sees Finn across the hall and still feels that little burn of anger at his friend. Finn is weak, he thinks. He'd been mean to Rachel, gone along with the other's because Finn is a follower and would do anything to fit in. The problem with Finn, is that feels entirely too sorry for himself. Puck would hang out at Finn's house after school as much as he could because it meant he could avoid going home. He'd seen the framed photo of Finn's dad. He'd even seen Finn's mom cry over it. Finn thinks his life is tragic because he doesn't have a dad. Puck wants to tell him he'd trade with him in an instant because sometimes it's better _not_ to have a dad and, besides, it's beautiful that his mom loves his dad enough to cry for him. 

Puck wishes he had a dad worth crying over. Puck's dad is usually one of two things, drunk and hitting him, or passed out. Puck's mom cries too, but not for his dad and not even for him, but for herself. When Puck would limp to the freezer and find a bag of frozen peas to press to the bruises on his body, his mom would make up excuses. She's his  _mom_ and she's supposed to love him and all she can do is make up excuses for why his dad hits him. He should be quieter, easier, cleaner, nicer, better. He should be  _better_ and maybe his dad will stop, she tells him. 

And then there's Rachel Berry. She's shiny and flawless and absolute perfection and pretty much the opposite of everything in his life, so he thinks that can be nothing but good. She's not like anyone else he knows. He almost signs his own name to the Valentine when he thinks about that, but the thing is, she's shiny and flawless and absolute perfection so he knows she's not for him, will never be for him. She has a plan for everything, a dream, a perfect future. He's seven years old and he knows two things with absolute certainty. The first, is that he doesn't get to have things that are good. The second is, that even if he did, he doesn't fit into the plan.

 

 

**“...and so am I, just typically drowned in my car.”**

Rachel Berry has a plan. She might only be 14 years old. She might not be exactly the most  _popular_ person. But she's going to be a star and she knows exactly what steps she's going to take to get there. Part of the plan, a very important part of the plan, is Finn Hudson. Of course, most importantly is her Broadway career, but eventually she's going to get married and have kids and Finn is the one she's going to do that with. She knows this because he's her soulmate. He just doesn't know it yet. 

She knows the whole thing, this future she's planned out for herself, won't be easy, but Rachel is nothing if not a hard worker. And Finn, she decides, is her reward. He's perfect. The quarterback, popular, cute, and girls love him, but he's still sweet and shy. He's the kind of guy who could worship her. She just has to get him to understand that.

Besides, she knows he at least sort of realized they were soulmates once because he gave her a Valentine. It wasn't exactly a work of art, but it was the only one she'd gotten. She knows it was from him because she'd given him one first. She'd thought that hadn't gone well, but then a week later, there was her Valentine. She knew it was an apology, because deep down, Finn loved her. Only right now, he doesn't seem to understand that.

It doesn't help that Noah Puckerman is his best friend. Puck's the kind of guy who, already at 14, has a different girl whenever he likes. She imagines he doesn't do her relationship with Finn any favors, since there doesn't seem to be a romantic bone in his body. If Finn liked her, Puck would surely discourage him. Puck's all about quantity, not quality and Rachel Berry is certainly quality.

Puck scares Rachel. Sometimes she catches him looking at her with this strange expression and it makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't like Noah Puckerman because of his friendship with Finn and because he breaks rules (and she loves rules) and because he's not scared of anything when she's afraid of so much. But most of all, she hates Noah Puckerman because, despite all this, despite Finn being her soulmate, she still blushes when he looks at her and still melts when she hears his voice and still imagines what it would be like to be kissed by him.

She chalks it up the fact that every girl has a soft spot for bad boys and she just has to remember that and stick to the plan. But on days like this, it's really really hard to remember, because she has PE and while the girls sit around on the bleachers and gossip (Rachel sits alone), the boys play a game of basketball, shirts on skins. And of course, Noah Puckerman is a skin. Finn is a skin too, and as much as she loves him, it's not the same. Finn is adorable and perfect and, one day, hers, but he's pale and a little pudgy and very awkward. Puck, on the other hand, is tan, toned, and full of swagger. Even the way he walks screams sex. Rachel tries not to look, but really, abs like that are hard to resist.

Furious with herself, Rachel opens her planner on her lap and stares at it, trying to think of something to add. There's really no room, but she's determined. After twenty minutes, she can't stare blankly at the planner any longer, so she closes it, placing it back in her bag, and decides a trip to the bathroom is a much needed distraction.

She's halfway to the doors when she hears the shout.

“Heads!” She looks up to see a basketball flying directly at her face and, for all her amazing athletic ability (she has four dance classes a week) she freezes. And, suddenly, unexpectedly, she's pulled from the path of disaster into what could possibly be a much more disastrous situation, straight into the sweaty, bare, and perfectly sculpted upper body of Noah Puckerman. She thinks her heart stops for a moment. She wants to touch him. Well, she  _is_ touching him, but not the way she'd like. 

He lets her go and steps away, flashing her that signature Puckerman smirk. She's closer to him than she's ever been and she vaguely notes that his eyes, which she'd always registered as brown, are actually a mix of hazel and gold. And then, almost as suddenly as he came, he's gone, taking the offending basketball with him.

In years to come, she blames her chronic sexual attraction to Noah Puckerman on that moment. If that had never happened, she would never have wanted him so badly later. She wouldn't long for him when she'd gotten what she wanted. She's Rachel Berry, and Noah Puckerman is not part of the plan.

 

 

 

**“It's my party, and I'll cry to the end.”**

He's not mean to her for the same reasons that Finn is mean to her. Finn is mean to her because everyone else is. Finn is mean to her because he can't see how much she's worth, how she's special. Puck is mean to her for the absolute opposite reason. She's too special. She's too flawless. It hurts. He's mean to her in a very foolish and vain attempt to crush the thing that he sees as perfect. Hey, that's how things have always been in his life. Anything beautiful gets destroyed for him, so he needs to see it happen here too, so that he can get her out of his head, so he can stop wanting her so much.

 

It doesn't work.

 

Everyone in his life, even his teachers, call him Puck. Everyone, except her. She calls him Noah. He doesn't know why she insists on using his first name, but he's so fucking glad she does. Because he associates the name Puck with a lot of things. Puck is the one whose dad beat the shit out of him and drank himself into a stupor before finally walking out. Puck is the one who comes home everyday wondering if he'll find his mother still breathing. Puck is the one who worries about what there is in the house to eat and if his sister is healthy because he'd dragged her to a walk in clinic after she'd fainted in the shower and nearly drowned and they told him she had low blood sugar  _and_ she was anemic. It's probably because they live off cheap microwave meals. Puck's a slacker with grades that tank the class average and a different girl on his hips every night. Puck's the boy who practically whores himself out to horny older women just so there's enough money in his house to go around. And Puck's the one who could never in a million years have Rachel Berry. But she calls him Noah. And Noah isn't anyone yet. Noah could be anything. Noah could maybe even have her.

He smashes that dream quickly. He erodes it with slushies to her face and tears in her eyes. He needs to be Puck to her because he's too fucking scared to hope and if she stops seeing him as Noah, he can stop hoping. As long as she's calling him Noah, he's fucked.

The problem, he finds, is that she  _won't_ stop calling him Noah. Not that he talks to her often, but he does see her at Temple and every time it's “Noah.” Every fucking time. He thinks she must really be perfect, if he can't break her. He, who specializes in ruining anything precious and good, can't destroy the soul that is Rachel Berry. And that makes it harder. 

When Quinn gets pregnant, he feels a strange sense of relief. There, he's finally made a monumental mistake that will forever create a wall between him and perfect Rachel Berry. If “Noah” had ever had a chance, he thinks, he won't once proper and pure Rachel finds out he's gone and knocked up his best friend's girlfriend. Though, to be totally honest, he's not sure  _when_ people are going to find out, since Quinn is insisting it's Finn's to everyone but him. And besides, he might not care too much for the gorgeous cheerleader, but he's going to be a father and he's  _never_ going to be  _his_ father. He promises that to himself. 

Focus on Quinn, he tells himself. He can't have what he wants, but maybe he can have something. He could be a good dad, or a better dad than he'd had. He wants to try. Focus on your kid. Forget about Rachel Berry.

He tries to tell himself that he joins Glee for Finn. Or even for Quinn. For the child. He's good at lying to himself and it almost works. Almost. But it's hard when  _she's_ there all the time. He almost quits just because he's forced to watch her moon over Finn all the time. He doesn't understand her obsession with him. Of course, she probably wouldn't understand  _his_ obsession with her. The difference, he thinks, is that she believes she can have Finn and he knows he can't have Rachel. But if he could....

 

 

**“and you must try harder, than kissing all of my friends.”**

Sometimes, Rachel Berry just wants to give up. Give up the dream, give up the future. Give up the boy. But then she stares at herself in the mirror and tells herself that she's  _special,_ that she's  _talented,_ and that she can have anything she works hard enough for. It's just hard to remember sometimes. 

It's hard to watch Finn with the beautiful and untouchable Quinn Fabray on his arm. And it's hard to smile and work and plan when her heart is aching. It's hard to crawl out of bed hours before she absolutely  _has_ to in order to keep her morning routine. It's hard to try so hard and not get almost anything she wants.

And right now, it's hard not to have Finn. She'd been close, so close, she thinks and she doesn't understand what went wrong. If she closes her eyes and thinks of him, she can still feel his lips, still taste him. She's waited years to taste him. And he doesn't belong to her. But he's her  _soulmate_ , so he will one day. She just has to be patient, stick to the plan.

That's easier said than done, she finds. To get her mind off Finn, she focuses twice as hard on Glee. When Quinn joins, she wants to break something, everything, everyone, but she can't. So she makes another plan. She keeps it together.

When Noah Puckerman joins, she's confused. At first she thinks it's about Finn. They  _are_ best friends, after all, but then she remembers that Noah never does anything he doesn't want to do. He certainly wouldn't do something he didn't want to for Finn. She deduces it must be about Quinn, because every boy in school is at least half in love with Quinn Fabray. 

She doesn't see Noah joining Glee as a plus. He's distracting. He's distracting from Finn. He's distracting from the plan. He's distracting from work. And Rachel Berry hates distractions. It's not  _her_ fault that he has rock hard abs (like actually rock hard. She remembers the basketball incident well) or eyes that you feel like you could fall into. It's not  _her_ fault he's so difficult to ignore. 

It doesn't help that Noah is talented. But he  _is_ talented and it frustrates her to no end that he can't seem to see his own worth. He makes terrible decisions. He says terrible things. He breaks things. And she doesn't understand why. He's talented, and handsome, and a lot smarter than he thinks he is, and all he can do is destroy. And that's distracting. There's something in her, clawing at her, that just wants to scream at him and tell him he's stupid, so stupid for not seeing how amazing he actually is, how amazing he could be. 

But that is not part of the plan. Trying to piece together Noah Puckerman's life is not part of the plan. And Finn is. Finn is absolutely part of the plan. Which makes her think, maybe Noah can help with that, maybe there's something  _he_ can do. He knows Finn better than anyone, after all. 

 

 

**“you.”**

There's a week, one shining glorious week that he deludes himself into thinking maybe, just maybe, he can have her after all. When it ends, he has to think long and hard if it was worth it, if the fact that he's left with a heart so shattered he's never going to be able to put it back together, is worth that week. He decides it is.

For one week, he has everything he's ever wanted. And, for one week, he gets to kiss Rachel Berry senseless, to press her into the mattress and memorize everything he can about her, because this is the only chance he's going to get. One week. It's not nearly enough.

He sings to her and wonders if it's the only time he'll get to do it because there's no way in hell this is going to last. It's funny how singing to the girl he wants makes the girl the everyone thinks he wants, want him. Life can punch you in the face like that.

Choosing between football and Glee is easy, because he's not choosing between football and Glee; he's choosing between football and Rachel. Okay, maybe it's not easy. Not because he doesn't know which one he wants, but because not being in Glee means not seeing her and not seeing her is infinitely easier than seeing her. But he supposes he a glutton for punishment because he has to see her. So he chooses Glee. He knows everyone's surprised by his choice.

He sees the end before she does, he thinks, but he doesn't try to stop it. It was inevitable. He sees it coming and that doesn't stop him from wishing for just one more day, or one more hour, or minute, or even second. Anything she could give him.

He's watching football practice when it happens. He came out here because he thought maybe she wouldn't find him, but she does.

“You miss it?”

“Hell, no.” It's not really a lie. He'd liked football, but what he misses and dreads is the distance it gave him from her, from aching.

She sits down. “I hope you didn't choose Glee over football because of me.”

“Why?” But he knows why, because everything's about to end and she doesn't want to be guilty.

“Because I don't think this relationship is gonna work out.” There it is. He knew it was coming, but it still hurts.

“It's cool. I was gonna break up with you, anyway.” A lie. They both know it, though she doesn't fully understand it.

“No, you weren't.”

“Yes, I was. It's Finn, right?” He knows it's Finn. He's not stupid. He's always known it was Finn. He'd had her for a week, but she'd never been his. She was Finn's, always Finn's.

“He's never gonna leave Quinn. Not with that baby in her belly.” His baby. He doesn't add that Finn doesn't deserve her, anyhow.

“You like her don't you? Is that why you joined Glee? To be closer to her?” It's not, but he guesses it's best if she thinks so. He dodges the question.

“Like I said, they're never breaking up.” He wishes that were true. He doesn't want to see Rachel and Finn together.

“I just think you want it too much, which is something I can relate to. I want everything too much.” He does want it too much, just not what she's talking about. He wants  _her_ too much, not Quinn. 

“Our relationship was built on a fantasy,” she continues. Ha. He knows that better than she can even imagine. He knew that the instant it started. “Like every other one in my life. I think I just agreed to us being together because I thought it would make Finn jealous.” He knew that too.

“I just hope we can still be friends.”

He tells her a truth, then, an angry, hurt, truth. “We weren't friends before.” And then he goes, because he can't let her know that this is only one of many times she's broken his heart.

 

 

**“it takes a bit more, yeah it takes a bit more than you.”**

She hates herself from getting distracted from the plan. Distracted by Noah's hands and eyes and lips. She pulls herself together eventually, but by then, she's got a memory in her head that she can't shake. Because she can't forget the way he feels and it drives her crazy. Noah Puckerman is not going to be anything other than an old mistake. She needs to get it through her head.

She'd gone temporarily crazy. She supposes she'd done it to make Finn jealous. She half can't believe that she'd been  _able_ to do it, because Noah was gorgeous and could have literally any girl he wanted, but it had happened. And then she'd come to a terrible realization. 

Noah was nice. He wasn't nice the way Finn was nice, but he wasn't what everyone saw. He could be sweet and he was sweet to her. But the worst part was that, when it came down to it, Noah chose Glee and Finn chose football. Noah chose her and Finn didn't. She decided then and there, there had to be an explanation. Noah didn't choose  _her_ , she realizes, looking back on everything. Noah chose Quinn. That was it, wasn't it? He loved Quinn and she loved Finn and this thing, whatever it was, between them had to stop. 

He didn't deny it when she confronted him about Quinn. She wonders how no one else seems to see it. She hopes he can have Quinn, because Noah is amazing and he deserves to be happy. She tries not to think that if he gets Quinn, then her shot at Finn is clear. She doesn't need a  _shot_ at Finn. He's her soulmate. Everything will work out. Stick to the plan. 

Still, sometimes it's not easy when she wakes up from a dream that definitely involved Noah's lips and Noah's abs and Noah, Noah, Noah. She can't control her dreams, she tells herself. And it's not that odd to dream about Noah, he is  _hot_ . She's never denied that. She's sure a lot of girls dream about Noah. He's just not Finn. And Rachel Berry believes in destiny and soulmates. 

All she has to do is stick to the plan and get Noah Puckerman and his perfect kisses out of her head.

 

 

**“You're alive, at least as far as I can tell you are.”**

He's angry when he finds out Finn is dating her. It's not because he thinks  _he_ could have her. He's known she'll never be his since he was seven years old, but that doesn't change the fact that Finn shouldn't have her, either. She deserves the world. He wants her to have the world and Goddamn Finn Hudson sure as hell isn't going to give her that. 

His life isn't the sort of life that he could share with Rachel Berry. He's the high school kid with a daughter, after all. He couldn't believe it when Rachel's mom had adopted Beth. Shelby had created the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world when she'd given birth to Rachel, and even though she didn't raise her, if she can create Rachel, then there's no one else he'd rather have raising his kid. Well, expect maybe Rachel herself, but  _that's_ never going to happen.

She finds him on the bleachers brooding. She clearly knows his place. She thinks it's about Quinn, he knows. She's never be able to see past that facade. Besides, him loving Quinn would work in her favor. It would leave Finn to her. It  _has_ left Finn to her. It breaks his heart see her with him. She can see that he's heartbroken, but, of course, she thinks it's about Quinn. She sits down next to him, all soft expressions and gorgeous brown eyes. He half hates her for caring. If she'd just stop caring... but that wouldn't fix it either, would it? 

“Do you love her?” Rachel asks him, and he wants to laugh, because no, he doesn't love Quinn Fabray. But he can't tell her that, so he settles with a noncommittal grunt.

“It's okay to love her, you know. You can't help who you love.” It's funny  _she_ would tell him that. He knows that all too well. 

“Do you know when I knew he was my soulmate?” Rachel asks him, a dreamy look on her face. He doesn't want to hear about her and Finn, but he can't think of a good reason to stop her. “I was seven. I was crushed because he didn't like my Valentine. And then, on Valentine's day, I opened my locker and he'd sent me one. It was the only one I got. I realized he did like me. He's just shy. He just doesn't always understand. I still have it.” 

Puck can't help himself. He laughs. He starts laughing and he can't stop. It's not funny. It's so far from funny that he wants to die, but if he doesn't laugh now, he's going to cry. He laughs because he'd made sure he couldn't have Rachel Berry when he was seven years old and he didn't even know it. He's spent years trying to make sure there was  _no hope_ he could have her, and it turns out he'd taken care of that when he was a child. 

Rachel's face is twisted in hurt. “What's so funny?!” she snaps. She thinks he laughing at her and he's not, he's laughing at himself, at his own miserably fucked and ironic life.

“Nothing,” he composes himself.

“I don't know why I tell you things, Noah!” Rachel is close to tears, he can see that and he doesn't want her to cry because he hates it when she's hurting, but he can't tell her, so he just looks at her. “Sometimes you're just so  _cruel_ .” 

“I know.” It's true, even if he hadn't meant to be, then.

“Why are you so mean to me?” She doesn't wait for an answer. “And then you're sweet and I don't understand it. What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing.” It's a half truth. He wants to say, that she never did  _anything_ except rip his heart out and carry it around without even knowing, without caring. He wants to tell her that she did  _nothing_ except make him hope that he could be better, different and she didn't even mean to. 

“Then why?” One tear slips down her face, and his eyes follow the track it makes down her cheek. He doesn't have an answer, not one he can tell her.

He doesn't mean to do it, he never ever meant to do it, but he's good at making mistakes, so he kisses her. She makes a noise, a little, breathy “oh” of surprise as his lips meet hers. And she's just like he remembered, and even better. And she's pulling him in, asking for more. He gives it to her, trying to tell her everything,  _everything_ , with his lips and his hands, but he knows it won't work because it's not something she wants to hear. 

When they break apart she's flushed, a little disheveled and he thinks she's beautiful like that. She's always beautiful, but he loves seeing her with swollen lips and knowing  _he'd_ done that. That for just an instant, she looks beautiful in a way  _he_ made her. Puck doesn't get to make things beautiful very often. Her eyes are big and wide and he can see the anger starting to creep back in them. 

“Is that your solution to everything, Noah?” She snaps, all fire again. He knows she's angry and feeling guilty because she's Finn's girl and she just let him kiss her, encouraged it.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” He stands up because he has to get out of here. He can't stay here an instant longer or he might do something really stupid, more stupid than what he's already done.

“You didn't answer the question!” She calls out after him as he makes his way down the bleachers. He lets out a bark of laughter, humorless and heavy. Because he had answered her question, she just didn't understand. She just didn't want to know. He'd answered her question with his lips with his heart screaming he loves her, he's always loved her, he will always love her, and she will never be his. That's why he's mean to her.

 

 

**“And so am I.”**

To be honest, there a lot of things that drive Rachel crazy, but one in particular is not understanding someone. And she finds she certainly doesn't understand Noah Puckerman. With his kiss still burning on her lips, she sits and stares at her feet. She feels guilty, because she finally has Finn and then she goes and let's Noah kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

This is Noah Puckerman. He's got a child. Sure, he's not actually raising a child, but still. That's not exactly the type of guy that Rachel Berry has any interest in. After the whole Jesse St. James fiasco, she's convinced, now, more than ever, that she and Finn are meant to be and anything else will end in heartbreak. Besides, she has Finn. She  _finally_ has Finn. And Finn loves her, so everything is perfect. She tells herself that a lot for a while. 

Yeah, everything is perfect until she finds out about Santana. And then nothing is perfect. She just doesn't understand how Finn could have done that to her. How could he have lied and said that he hadn't had sex with Santana when he very obviously  _had_ . You aren't supposed to lie about things like that. 

And somehow, as always, Noah is there, just there. So she takes him home. He's not her soulmate, but if anyone will make Finn jealous, it will be Noah. Not to mention, no one kisses her the way Noah kisses. She pushes that last reason to the back of her mind. She's not trying to start a relationship. She just wants some comfort. She just wants Finn to hurt the way she hurts.

Things don't work out the way she'd planned because he stops it. She doesn't understand the way he's looking at her, then. She thinks there's something hurt there and that makes her feel worse because if she's being honest with herself, she's used Noah to get to Finn a lot. And maybe he doesn't want her to, anymore.

He says he can't do this to Finn again, but it doesn't quite ring true and she can't put her finger on why. He looks at her in this way that's strangely familiar and totally bizarre all at the same time. She won't realize for years what that look really is.

When Finn finds out about Noah, he says he doesn't want her anymore. He hates her for it. She deserves it, she supposes, but that doesn't make it hurt less. He has to come around. He  _has_ to, because they're meant to share forever. It's school and then Broadway and then Finn and kids. That's how it goes. That's how it's always supposed to go. 

 

 

**“You beat me down and then we're back to my car.”**

When Finn and Rachel announce they're getting married, he feels like his stomach drops straight into his feet. She can't marry Finn Hudson. And it's not because it's Finn Hudson. It's not even because she's marrying someone else, someone who's not him. It's because he knows she's losing herself to do it. And that's what he can't stand.

The fact that the wedding falls apart is a strange mixture of horror and relief for him. Because he  _does_ care about Quinn. He cares about all of them. But he thinks it's saved Rachel from a huge mistake. He wants her to have everything she wants and he hates Finn for being so selfish. 

And now he finds out there's a distinct possibility he won't be graduating. How the hell is he supposed to concentrate on graduating when he's barely holding his family together? But he's  _trying_ . He's really trying. And when Finn tries to help him, he almost feels guilty for loving his girl. Almost. 

She gets into NYADA and he's not surprised at all. He's always known she was too special for this place. This was the sort of place for losers like him. He's glad she's getting out, but without her here, he thinks he wants to go somewhere else too. Not New York, because even he isn't that delusional. Los Angeles, maybe. He could do something there. He's never going to  _be_ anyone, but he could not be someone in somewhere a lot better than Lima, Ohio. 

When he finds out that Finn is sending Rachel off to New York and parting ways, he believes Finn really does love her. Because it was the right thing. Because if he  _didn't_ love her, he wouldn't have done that. Puck understands. He knows how hard it is to not have the girl you love. God, does he know. But he's happy, because she's back on track, because somewhere along the way, her getting her dream became his dream. 

He goes to the train station with the rest of them. He goes and he waves goodbye to her and he feels happy and sad at the same time. He's spent over half his life in love with a girl that doesn't love him back, that's leaving, that could be years before he sees. It's a hard pill to swallow. And yet, she's going. And he knows, with absolute certainty, that she's going to set the world on fire. 

 

 

**“And it's so ironic, how it's only be a year.”**

She can't believe she's already been in New York a year. She can't believe she's going to be on Broadway. She can't believe that she's found and lost love several times over. She can't believe a lot of things. For the first time in her life, she feels like she doesn't have a plan. She's made it. And the second part of the plan, Finn and marriage and kids, it just doesn't seem to fit right anymore. The longer she's apart from him, the more she thinks it might never fit again. First love is strong, but it isn't always right. She's come to terms with that now. And maybe there isn't such a thing as soulmates. Maybe that was something she told herself when she was sad and lonely and needed something to hold onto. But she's okay now. She's herself. And she doesn't  _need_ Finn the way she did in high school. 

The night of her first Broadway show, she thinks she might die. Is it possible to die from nerves? Judging on how she feels, she would say yes. It's going to be okay, she tells herself, because Kurt is out there, and Santana, and Blaine, and her Dad's, and even Shelby. And so what if Finn couldn't make it? He'd called and that had given her strength. So she'll be okay.

It goes well and she tells herself she knew it would, even if it's a bit of a lie. She finds Kurt after the show and is ecstatic to find that Quinn and Mercedes and even Mr. Shue had made the trip as well. It's almost everyone she would want there. Almost. There are hugs, and tears, and laughter, and then she has to go change, so she makes plans to meet them outside.

Sitting in front of her dressing room mirror, back in her regular clothes, she can't bring herself to want to move from this spot. It had been the almost perfect evening and she knows that once she goes outside everyone will be there waiting for her again, but she just wants to absorb everything for a minute.

A figure appears over her shoulder in the mirror, startling her. She turns, sharply and freezes. Because she hadn't expected him to be here, even if there was that tiny, tiny part of her that had hoped and then felt foolish for doing so.

“Noah?”

“Hey.” He shoots her the Puckerman smirk, and that hasn't changed. In fact, he doesn't look at all like he's changed and she hasn't seen him in months, hasn't heard from him in months.

“Noah, what are you doing here?” There's only one answer, really, but she can't quite believe it.

“What? You thought I'd miss this?  _This_ ? There was no way I wasn't going to be here.” And the thing is, that's why she'd been hoping, because he's  _always_ been there. Whenever she really needed someone, he'd always been the one to show up. She loved Finn with all her heart, but if she's being honest, Noah had always been the one to show up first. 

“Why weren't you with everyone else?” She chokes out, feeling tears prick her eyes.

“I didn't come to see everyone else.”

Rachel swallows, standing up. “Don't you want to see them? We're going out in a minute.”

Noah shrugs. “Not really. It's not their moment. I didn't drive my ass across the country to get counseled by the old Glee club. Trust me, after 44 hours in my truck, I don't need to hear life advice from Mr. Shue.”

“Why did you come? If it was such a pain?” She doesn't know why she's feeling resentful all of a sudden. Maybe because, if she was so important, he probably should have called sometime. At least once. Ever.

Noah sighs, a big, full body sigh. “Because I've known this day was coming since I was seven years old and fuck if that's not worth 44 hours in a beat up old truck.”

Rachel softens, steps towards him. “Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn't be anywhere else,” he tells her and all of a sudden more than anything she just wants to be close to him, so she hugs him, and he's warm and perfect and she forgot how strong he was. 

“You were great, Rachel,” he tells her, and she knows, because Noah Puckerman is who he is, that he means that with all his heart.

 

 

**“And it's not my fault, that I've fucked everybody here.”**

He drives back to Los Angeles almost at once. He didn't go to New York to sight see. He went for one singular purpose and with that purpose fulfilled, he really didn't feel like sticking around. He'd meant what he said. He didn't want to see the others. He loved them, but he didn't want to see them. He'd just wanted, needed, to see her. It makes him sad that Finn couldn't come. She would have liked that. It doesn't seem to him, that anything can be perfect in her life without Finn. He wishes he could change that, but it seems ingrained into her. He's come to accept it.

But when he gets back, all he can do is think of her. In their months apart, he'd nearly fooled himself into thinking he didn't want her anymore. And now he's back to knowing that that is, in fact, a laughably huge lie. So he's not thinking straight when he packs up everything he owns, not that there's a lot of it, and turns right back around to drive back to New York.

Once he gets there, he doesn't call her. He doesn't contact her at all. He just needed to be closer. New York is expensive and he can't afford it. He stays anyway. He gets a job. He starts to save. In the evening he sneaks into her show. He goes to every performance. He doesn't tell her. He doesn't say anything at all. It continues until she catches him.

“Noah?” A hand on his arm. It could only be her. He'd just slipped outside the theater. He turns slowly to her.

“Good show tonight, Rachel,” he tells her, because really, fuck, what else is there to say?

“What are you doing here? When did you get into town?” She's looking at him with confused brown eyes. God, she's so beautiful.

He shrugs. “A while ago.” He can't tell her the truth. It will sound crazy.

Her face is crinkled in confusion. “Was that you, the other night, then?” So she  _had_ seen him, then. He'd thought so. He shrugs again. 

“Why didn't you call me? What are you doing in New York?”

“Uh,” he scuffs his shoe on the ground. “I kind of live here now,” he admits.

“You what?!” Her voice goes up a couple of pitches when she's upset. “And you didn't tell me?!”

Puck looks at his shoes. “I didn't want to bother you,” he says slowly.

“Bother me?” she's looking at him like he's gone absolutely insane. “We're  _friends_ , you're supposed to tell your friends stuff like this!” 

He doesn't want to be friends with her. He wants so much more than that. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” He can tell she's trying to figure him out. If she refuses to see what he thinks should have been obvious for years, she's never going to do it. “Noah, what's going on?”

And he's tired of fighting it. He's tired of walking away because he knows it's no use. He's tired of this whole Goddamn thing. So he  _doesn't_ fight it. He pulls her to him and he kisses her. He kisses her with everything in him, with all the pain he's felt over the years and all the longing he's done and all the misery at knowing he can't have her. When he breaks away she's left gasping. 

“It's about  _that_ , okay? It's always been about that.” He shakes his head, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Because it's always been you and you never saw it. Because I couldn't tell you because I wanted you to have the world and I could never ever give you that. I've always known I didn't fit in Rachel Berry's perfect life plan.” And he turns on his heel and walks away, because rejecting himself is easier than hearing it from her.

 

 

**“It takes a bit more, yeah it takes a bit more than you.”**

He leaves her with her fingers pressed to her lips in disbelief. He leaves her reeling. She's known Noah Puckerman for nearly her entire life and she has never, not once in all that time, thought something like this was going to happen. She tries to think back, to see if she should have seen it coming, but she can't find the signs anywhere.

In elementary school he'd ignored her, the same for middle school. In high school he'd started out as cruel. And yes, he'd grown softer, nicer. There had been that one week, but he'd been hung up on Quinn, hadn't he? She digs out the memory of them on the bleachers. He'd recognized her love for Finn and she'd.... she'd assumed that he'd been in love with Quinn. He hadn't ever admitted, had he? He just hadn't denied it either.

She remembers the other day on the bleachers, when he'd kissed her and left her there. “Why are you so mean to me?” she'd asked. And he'd kissed her. She remembers the kiss, desperate, pushing, asking for something, trying to tell her something. It had been his answer, she realizes, now. She just hadn't seen it. “I wanted you to have the world and I could never ever give you that,” he'd just said to her. He was trying to tell her.

She walks slowly home, trying to remember everything that's ever happened between her and Noah Puckerman. She wishes she'd known sooner, but... would that have changed anything? He'd said it and she'd thought it herself, Noah Puckerman didn't fit in the plan. Except, now, there wasn't a plan.

She reaches her apartment and hikes up the stairs. It's dark a quiet. Santana and Kurt have already gone to sleep. She tiptoes into her room and closes her door. She glances at the bookshelf. There's a picture of her and Finn on it. She doesn't keep it because she thinks they'll always get back together, she keeps it to remind her what it's like to be in love. Next to it, is a crude, sad, Valentine. Rachel picks it up, staring at it. She remembers telling Noah the story, remembers the way he'd laughed.

And there's a growing suspicion in her, one that both terrifies and excites her. She pulls out her cellphone and scrolls through her contacts until she finds him. She's half afraid his number has changed. It rings. Once. Twice.

The line clicks active, but he doesn't say anything.

“Noah?”

“Yeah.” It's quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

“When we were seven, the Valentine, was that you?”

There's the sound of him exhaling heavily. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” He's silent for a minute.

“Yeah, it was me.”

“Why did you let me believe it was Finn?” She doesn't understand him one bit.

“Because it didn't matter. It wasn't about getting  _credit_ for it. I just wanted you to be happy.” His explanation hurts, in both a good way and a bad one. She feels tears coming. 

“But if I'd known....” she doesn't know how to finish the sentence. If she'd known, what? Would anything have really been different? She doesn't know.

“If you'd known, it wouldn't have meant so much. You wanted it to be from Finn, so you believed it was.” His voice is gruff, she wishes she could see him.

“You still should have told me. Later, at least. That day on the bleachers.”

“I  _did_ tell you, Rachel,” he says. He's talking about the kiss. “You didn't want to know.” 

She closes her eyes. “I'm sorry.”

He's quiet again. “I'm not.” And he hangs up the phone.

 

 

**“And I say. 'Do you wanna dance?'”**

Three days later, she texts him an address and a time. He goes, because, who is he kidding, he's always going to go where she wants him. It's a bar, which surprises him. He doesn't think of Rachel as the bar type. Then again, she may have changed a lot in New York. He wouldn't know. He hasn't been around.

He finds her inside, sipping a drink and eying the dancefloor. She smiles softly when she sees him and it's a new look for her. He doesn't know if he wants to know why she's called him here. Everything is different now. He's so used to pretending around her.

She holds a hand out to him and he takes it, her leading him to the dancefloor. He hasn't danced in ages, but it's a slow song and she twines her arms around his neck and presses herself close. He forgets to breathe for a few moments. He wants to remember everything about this, because half of him is sure he's going to wake up any second.

They stay like that for a long time and he never, ever wants to let her go. He doesn't know what will happen when this moment ends. Noah Puckerman never saw himself ending up here. And there's always going to be Finn, isn't there?

And after what seems like both seconds and hours at the same time, she stands on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

“Take me home.” He thinks his heart stops, but this all seems too good to be true. After years of telling himself he can't have Rachel Berry, it simply can't be this easy.

“I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he murmurs back.

“Why not?”

“I'm not part of the plan, remember?” He knows it sounds bitter the instant it comes out.

She smiles at him. “There is no plan anymore, Noah.” And she let's that sink in for a moment. It does and he can feel the hope swelling in his chest. It's terrifying.

“Take me home,” she says again. And this time, he does.

 

 

**“Do you wanna dance, dance in the back of the hall?”**

If someone had told her in high school that the happiest she'd ever be would be waking up in Noah Puckerman's arms, she would have told them they were crazy. She's going to Broadway. She's going to be a star. She's going to marry Finn Hudson and have two kids and live in New York and everything is going to be perfect. That's the plan.

That was the plan. And now it's not. She's gotten a lot of what she'd wanted back then. She's on Broadway. She's well on her way to becoming a star. But there's where that plan ended and she couldn't be happier about it. Finn Hudson was her first love, he wasn't  _the_ love. 

It turns out,  _that_ love had been right in front of her face the whole time. He'd been there, right there, on the edges, patiently waiting his turn. And he's right  _here_ , now. He's right here and this one she swears she's not going to lose. 

When she was seven years old, she'd decided a boy was her soulmate based on a sad, badly made Valentine. Looking back, she thinks, her seven year old self had been right. That boy was her soulmate, she just hadn't gotten the owner of that red heart right.

 

 

**“It takes a bit more.”**

Noah Puckerman knows two things with absolute certainty. The first, is that he is and has always been hopelessly in love with Rachel Berry. The second, is that he's never, ever letting her go.

 

 

 


End file.
